champagne supernova
by splendidlyimperfect
Summary: Sting and Ryos spend the weekend at Sting's childhood farm. / Written for WWTDP; Week 2, Day 11; prompt: stars / **part of the 'only hope for me is you' universe, see profile for links**


"I can't believe you grew up here."

Sting turned to see Ryos looking around him, dappled light falling through the trees onto his face. His skin looked golden under the afternoon sun and Sting smiled softly, thinking once again how lucky he was that this gorgeous guy was willing to come spend the weekend with him at a farm in the middle of nowhere.

"I know, it's a bit—"

"It's amazing." Ryos crouched down on the edge of one of the cracked paving stones, examining a patch of purple flowers. They were pushing through the cement, extending out through the grassy area and trailing a path toward the woods. "It's like... it feels magical."

"You're acting like you've never been out in nature before," Sting joked, crouching down next to Ryos and examining the path of the flowers. Ryos grinned, turning and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing and pulling him to his feet. "You're in a good mood."

"I needed this," Ryos admitted, taking Sting's hand in his as they followed the cracked pathway toward the old farmhouse. "College applications are stressing me out, Gajeel's being ridiculous as usual, and Kiya is..."

Sting snorted. Kiya was adorable, but she was also four, which made her a disaster on legs. After an unfortunate incident with crayons and the wall, Ryos had ended up getting a deadbolt on his bedroom door so she couldn't get in.

"I know," Sting said, bumping Ryos' shoulder. "It's just weird to be back here, y'know? It's been years." He looked around them – woods on one side, hill on the other that lead down to the disused cow pasture. Further beyond that were more woods, and then the river where Sting had spent nearly ever summer of his childhood. "We're really in the middle of nowhere."

"You're sure their landline works?" Ryos asked suddenly, glancing over at the building. He was holding his phone and looking down at the screen, which showed no coverage.

"We'll be fine, it—"

"We need to be able to call for help if you have a bad seizure, dumbass." Sting blinked – he hadn't thought about that. "You did bring your meds, right?" At that he rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I know you tease me about being dumb, but I'm not _that_ dumb," he grumbled. They had reached the house by now and he tugged the creaky screen door opening, rapping his knuckles against the wood and letting himself in. "Oma? Opa? _Wir sind da!"_

Ryos stepped into the farmhouse and was immediately overwhelmed by the scent of baking – something with cinnamon, he thought. He kicked off his shoes and followed Sting up the short flight of stairs, then into the tiny kitchen. Everything was old – the floor was peeling laminate, and pink-and-blue wallpaper lent a cozy atmosphere to the room.

"Eugene! _Hallo, Herzchen!"_ An elderly woman with curly gray hair and a flowered blouse pushed herself up from an ancient, plastic-topped kitchen table. She pulled her grandson into a hug, kissing him on each cheek and examining his face. "You are getting too skinny," she declared, shaking her head. "Good thing I will fix that!" She looked up at Ryos with a wide smile on her face.

"Oma, this is my boyfriend Ryos." Sting's voice was uncertain – he'd told his grandmother that he was gay a long time ago, but she hadn't had much to say on the subject.

 _"Oh, so ein schmucker junger Mann!"_ She winked at Sting and reached out to grab Ryos' hand.

"Oma!" Sting hissed, cheeks turning pink.

"It's, uh, nice to meet you, Mrs Eu—"

"Call me Oma," she said, pulling him in for a hug as well. Ryos relaxed into the embrace – she was exactly what he remembered from his own _sisele_ who had passed away several years ago. The scent of baking clung to her, and her hands were soft and gentle as she held his face and kissed each of his cheeks as well. "I'm so happy you boys could come stay this weekend, Eugene hasn't visited in such a long time."

Sting shot Ryos a look that said _don't mention the name._

"Where's Opa?" he asked, looking around the small house. Beyond the small kitchen was a living room that led off into a small bedroom, and behind them was another hallway that had a small room at the end.

"He's fighting with the chickens," Oma said, shaking her head. "That rooster is an asshole," she grumbled. Sting looked chagrined.

"Oma!" She looked at him with an eyebrow raised, shrugging.

"Just because I'm eighty-seven doesn't mean I can't curse, young man," she said, moving Ryos gently out of the way as the old-fashioned timer on the oven began to ring. "I've been around a lot longer than you. Now go put your bags in your room and go find your grandfather – dinner's almost ready."

The tiny room down the hallway was barely big enough to hold a double bed and a small dresser, but it was decorated from floor to ceiling. Ryos couldn't suppress the grin on his face as he took in the decorations – posters of the Jonas Brothers and Justin Bieber; a painstakingly hand-drawn picture of the Powerpuff Girls; various pieces torn out of magazines and taped to the walls.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sting's voice was a pained whisper and Ryos turned to see him with his hand over his mouth, face and ears bright red. "They haven't fucking cleaned out this shit? It's been five years!" He groaned, reaching out to pull one of the posters from the wall, but Ryos caught his hand.

"Don't - it's okay," he said, trying to keep in his laughter. "I promise you, my room was worse as a kid. I had a 'Hannah Montana' poster that I refused to get rid of, even though Gajeel teased me mercilessly." Sting groaned, letting Ryos pull him into a hug.

"I didn't have anyone to play with," he grumbled into Ryos' hoodie. "This was just... it was my place." Ryos kissed his head, chest still shaking with laughter. "Look, Powerpuff Girls is a good show, okay?"

"I know, love," Ryos said, letting go of Sting and grabbing the suitcase from him. He moved to set it down in the closet but Sting's hand whipped over and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't - you don't need to go there," he said hurriedly, grabbing the handle of the suitcase and trying to tug it away from Sting. "Here. Corner. It's fine in the corner." Ryos raised an eyebrow and reached for the closet door, trying not to grin. "Goddamnit Ryos, don't you dare."

"How can I not?" Ryos insisted, tugging open the closet door and bursting into laughter. Sting dropped the suitcase and groaned, covering his face with both hands. Ryos brought a hand to his face as he snickered.

"Shut upppppp," Sting begged, sitting down hard on the bed and wincing as he pinched his leg in the frame. "Ah, fuck, this room hates me." He glared past Ryos into the closet, where a large poster of a shirtless, dark-haired boy stared back at him. "I was thirteen, okay?"

Ryos continued to laugh, setting down on the bed beside Sting and following his gaze to the poster. He shook his head, kissing Sting on the cheek.

"Oh my god, you were Team Jacob."

* * *

"Oma, I can't eat anything else, I'm going to explode." Sting leaned back in his chair, groaning at his empty plate. Ryos had already eaten three times what he had, but Sting knew that Ryos had a tendency to eat more than necessary when it was available. He nudged his boyfriend's ankle gently and Ryos looked at him, sighing and making a face.

"You should be eating plenty, you're both growing young men," Oma chided, standing to clear the dishes.

"Let me," Ryos insisted, standing up and gesturing for her to sit back down. "Thank you so much for dinner, it was wonderful." Oma gave him a wide smile as he collected the plates, then turned to Sting.

"This is a good one," she said in a fake whisper, ignoring the flush that rose in Sting's cheeks. "Handsome _and_ polite." Opa chuckled next to her, shaking his head. He was a tall man with a kind face and a head of sparse white hair.

"You embarrass the boy, Stella," he chided, clasping her hand on the table. She gave him a look and shook her head. "Tell us about school, Eugene. Did you get any sports scholarships?"

Sting looked embarrassed and looked down at his hands. "No, uh, I actually had to quit soccer. And water polo." Oma and Opa looked at him, concerned. "They said it was too risky, that I might have a seizure in the water."

"I'm so sorry, Eugene," Oma said gently, reaching out and taking her grandson's hand.

"It's okay," he said, forcing a smile. "I'm going into the business program, and I'm gonna apprentice under my friend Natsu, to be a mechanic. We wanna open our own shop eventually."

"That's a useful skill," Opa said proudly. "Maybe you can help fix the tractor once you learn a thing or two." He laughed and Sting cracked a smile, looking up at Ryos who had returned to the table and squeezed his shoulder.

"And what about you?" Oma looked up at Ryos, gesturing for him to sit back down.

"I'm going into the theatre program at the University," Ryos said, shifting in his seat. "It's my thing, I guess?"

"Your thing? You're amazing." Sting gave Ryos a wide grin. "He's lead in 'Hamlet' this year, it's at the Citadel, the big theatre in Magnolia." Ryos blushed, looking down at his jeans. "I'm really proud of him."

"You two have so much ahead of you," Oma said, smiling and clapping her hands. "I'm glad you're happy, Eugene. Now, who wants pie?"

Several slices of pie and more than one game of rummy later – all of which Opa won – Sting and Ryos headed to their room.

"Your grandparents are amazing," Ryos said, tugging his shirt off and undoing the button of his jeans. Sting stepped over and wrapped his arms around Ryos' waist, kissing his neck and running his hands up and down his boyfriend's chest. His fingers lingered on the surgery scars. They were still red – it had only been eight months – but Ryos didn't care. It was such a relief to not bind anymore, to look in the mirror and feel right.

"You're gorgeous," Sting murmured, pressing a kiss to Rogue's collarbone. "Have I mentioned that lately?" He trailed his hands down to Ryos' hips and ran his thumbs over them. Ryos shivered, pressing against Sting.

"You may have said it... mmm... once or twice," Ryos replied, voice rough. "Gods, I want you but we can't have sex in your grandparent's house. It's be weird." Sting grunted, biting down gently on Ryos' neck.

"No fair," he grumbled, letting go of Ryos and flopping down on the bed. "You shouldn't be allowed to be so handsome if I can't ravish you."

"You're a dork," Ryos replied, tugging on his pajama shirt and flicking off the lights, then joining Sting on the bed. He looked up at the ceiling and laughed. "I had those too," he said, pointing to the glow-in-the-dark stars.

Sting smiled, turning to Ryos and nuzzling his neck. "Oma got these for me 'cause I always wanted to sleep in my tree fort and look at the real stars. She said it was too dangerous for an eight-year-old."

"You had a tree fort?" Ryos said, leaning up on his elbow and giving Sting a look.

"Yeah," Sting replied. "It's probably still up there, actually. Papa and Opa built it – it was pretty sturdy." He looked up at Ryos, who was grinning at him with a mischievous look in his eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"'cause it was dangerous for an eight-year-old," Ryos said, pushing himself to standing and reaching for Sting's hand. "But not for a nineteen-year-old." He bounced on the balls of his feet, pulling Sting to his feet. "C'mon, let's go look at the stars."

* * *

It hadn't taken much convincing. They bundled up in sweaters and brought the blanket and pillows, then made their way back down the cracked cement path. They passed the car, parked in a patch of grass on the other side of the treeline, then hopped the fence and made their way to the garage.

"We're gonna have to drive there," Sting said quietly, looking back at the house. "Hopefully they don't hear us."

He felt a sense of euphoria as he dug the keys out from under the rock, then grabbed the bottom of the rolling door and heaved it upward. It revealed an enormous garage that housed not only an ATV, but a small tractor and a ride-on lawnmower. It smelled like stale grass and hay, and Ryos loved it.

"C'mon," Sting said, tossing the blanket into the box at the back of the ATV and taking out a helmet. He turned the bike on, wincing at the noise, but there was no movement from the house. "Let's go."

It took about ten minutes to get to the treehouse, stopping to open old gates wrapped with rusted barbed wire and dodging enormous gopher holes in the fields. It was at the top of a hill overlooking the river, and when they arrived, Ryos gasped.

"Wow," he breathed, taking off his helmet and setting it in the box. "This is..."

The tree was enormous, with a sturdy trunk and planks nailed into it. At the very top was a huge fort built into the branches. At the bottom of the hill, the river flowed between them and the dark woods on the other side, and the stars in the sky were breathtaking.

"Up you go," Sting whispered, handing Ryos one of the pillows and gesturing to the tree. Ryos grabbed the first plank, tugging it to make sure it was sturdy, then began to climb. It had been so long since he'd climbed a tree and the sensation of moving higher and higher was exhilarating. It didn't take him long to reach the top and squeeze himself through the hole and into the fort.

Sting joined not long after, passing the blanket to Ryos. He spread it on the floor and set up their pillows, then settled back on it, pulling Sting close to him. There was no roof to the fort – it was open to the sky and the perfect view of the sky. It was so dark and millions of stars danced above them, as if someone had poked holes in the fabric of the sky to show off the brilliance behind it.

"This is beautiful," Ryos said, snuggling closer to Sting. There was no sound around them save for the cicadas chirping, and the occasional howl of a coyote far in the distance. It filled Ryos with a profound sense of peace and he closed his eyes, exhaling.

"I came up here all the time," Sting said eventually, turning on his side and wrapping an arm around Ryos' waist. "My cousins were jealous; sometimes they'd come play with me." He leaned his head on Ryos' shoulder. "They were all a lot older than me though, so I was just the annoying tag-along."

Ryos could hear the sadness in Sting's voice and he kissed his boyfriend's forehead, just over the scar through his eyebrow. "Mixed memories, hey?" he asked. Sting nodded.

"Oma and Opa were always great, I had... we did a lot of cool stuff." He sighed, tightening his grip on Ryos. "It was just, it was a long time and I missed my parents. They dumped me off here a lot." His voice was quiet now and he played with Ryos' bracelet. "I don't think I realized how lonely I was 'til I met you."

"Oh, love." Ryos ran a hand through Sting's hair. "I'm sorry." Sting shrugged, looking back up at the stars. "Wanna come back here tomorrow and have a picnic?"

Sting brightened at that. "Yeah, that'd be fun." He pushed himself up on one elbow and leaned over Ryos, rubbing their noses together and then kissing him.

Ryos' hand tightened in Sting's hair, pulling him tighter as they kissed, running his tongue gently over Sting's bottom lip and then biting it softly as Sting let him in. Sting sighed into the kiss, tugging the elastic from Ryos' hair and running his fingers through it. The deep silence around them made their own noises louder – the soft sighs, little moans, whispered words into each other's mouths.

"You don't have to be lonely anymore," Ryos said, moving to kiss across Sting's cheek, down his jaw, behind his ear. Sting moaned, hands moving over Ryos' stomach as he tipped his head to the side. Ryos left gentle kisses down Sting's neck and across his collarbone, his hand wrapped around Sting's hip, pulling him tight.

"I love you," Sting breathed as Ryos came back up to kiss his lips. "Thank you."

"For what?" Ryos murmured between kisses.

"Just... mmm... everything."

They switched positions eventually, Sting laying back while Ryos hovered over him and touched him gently. The stars overhead watched them as they kept kissing, never moving to something more, hands never wandering, just lips pressed together with the promise of never being alone.


End file.
